The once peaceful room was now a crowded hive of activity.
Rachel sat with Zoe and a young guard, all of them typing furiously on laptops. A gigantic map had been spread across one wall and Katie stood in front of it with two guards talking animatedly. None of them even noticed Allie.
A low hum of voices crackled through the speakers.
Dom was at her desk, talking on a cell phone. Spotting Allie hovering in the doorway, she motioned for her to enter. ‘Anything you can do to get us some of that satellite time?’ she said into the phone.
The light streaming through the windows that lined one wall of the office gave her dark skin a bronze sheen as she ended the call and turned to look at Allie.
‘I’m not supposed to bother you,’ she said, ‘until after your grandmother’s funeral.’
So that was why Isabelle hadn’t given her anything to do.
‘If I don’t do something I think I’ll go crazy.’ Allie looked around the crowded room. ‘Isn’t there something I could do? I’ll sweep floors, bring coffee. Anything.’
For a long moment Dom said nothing. Her expression was hard to read. Allie tensed, readying herself to be sent away.
But that didn’t happen.
‘I’m glad you’re here,’ the tech said. ‘I was just about to ask Isabelle for another volunteer.’ She pushed back her chair and stood up. ‘Come with me.’
Allie was grateful for the lie.
Dom headed over to the round table where the others were working, Allie at her side. Rachel waved; Zoe was too involved in her work to notice her.
She tapped the shoulder of the young guard in headphones. He was obviously involved in whatever he was listening to, because her touch made him jump. When he saw it was Dom, he slid the headphones off hastily.
‘What’s up?’
He was small and muscular with short dark hair and skin a shade or two lighter than Dom’s.
‘Shakir Nasseem, This is Allie Sheridan. She’s going to help monitor the communication from Nathaniel’s unit.’
Shakir didn’t ask any questions.
‘Aces.’ He pointed to an empty chair and handed her the silver headphones he’d just taken off.
‘Thanks, Shakir,’ Allie said, as she sat down.
‘Call me Shak,’ he said. ‘Welcome to the Situation Room.’
8
Nathaniel’s guards talked constantly.
‘I think they’re bored,’ Shak explained. His disapproving expression told her what he thought of that. ‘They say a lot of stuff they shouldn’t ever say. Raj would kill us if we pulled that kind of shizzle.’
He had a contagious smile that Allie liked instantly. He seemed laidback, despite his intimidating black uniform.
He showed her how to toggle between conversations on the computer, so she could listen to multiple guards at once. ‘Give us a heads up if you hear anything useful.’
She frowned. ‘What’s useful, though?’
‘Clues about their location. Anything at all. A street name. A restaurant. A shop. Anything we can track down.’ He turned back to his own laptop, where the screen held only a mystifying series of numbers. ‘Just keep your ears open. Don’t miss anything.’
Hesitantly, Allie slid the headphones on. Instantly the sound of typing and chatting disappeared. Voices filled her head. They were all male, speaking in the crisp truncated language she associated with soldiers in films.
There were so many of them, at first it was a bit bewildering. A tangle of words. Gradually, though, she began to identify unique voices barking orders, giving locations, making jokes. Saying ‘copy that’ a lot.
‘Going to the shops. Want anything?’
‘Copy that. Get me some crisps. And something sweet.’
‘Copy that. How about that sweet blonde behind the counter? No wait. I forgot. She’s mine.’
‘That’s not what she told me last night…’
‘(Muffled laughter) Copy that.’
There was no way she could imagine Raj’s guards having conversations like this on Cimmeria’s comms system. He’d have their heads.
They never used names, only numbers. After a while she got to know their voices. Nine had a gravelly voice and an Essex accent. Six had a distinctive high-pitched voice and a London accent.
As the hours passed, and she listened to them talk about lunch, their cars, their girlfriends, she imagined faces for them. She decided Nine had a square jaw and dark hair. Six was slim with an overbite.
There was only one guard whose real name she knew. He called himself One.
‘One to Six. You bringing me those papers? Over.’
When she heard that voice, Allie started so violently her earphones unplugged. The guards’ voices flooded into the room.
Shak glanced up at her questioningly.
Her hands had gone cold and clumsy, and she fumbled with the cable.
‘It’s Gabe.’ She whispered the words, as if Gabe might somehow hear her. ‘Gabe Porthus.’